Moeen had the blessing of the English Cricket Board, but not the International Cricket Council, which deemed that the bands contravened its statute proscribing "the display of messages that relate to political, religious or racial activities or causes". He removed them.

This was widely reported. Less so was the fact that during that match, England wore on its collars the logo Help for Heroes, drawing attention to the plight of injured and incapacitated British servicemen. Argued one way, this was also political, endorsing the UK's sometimes contentious military enterprises. Depending on how much of that hopelessly tangled knot you wanted to try to unpick, you might even have chosen to remember that it was the British, through the Balfour Declaration and the British Mandate, who paved the way for the creation of Israel.

It is a long bow, and I'm not drawing it. These are the sports pages, after all. But in broader terms, why should sport wall itself off from politics? There is a long history to say that the more it is declared that sport and politics should not mix, the more they engage anyway. There are many famous instances of sportsmen taking powerful political stances. The isolation of South African sport was as crucial as any other factor in the overthrow of apartheid in that country. In the way that it explores the strengths and frailties of human nature, sport is politics.

Geopolitics touched the AFL this week in a case with overtones of Moeen's. An Adelaide businessman, Daniel Milky, wanted to run paid 30-second advertisements at the Adelaide Oval with the legend: "Save Palestine, Save Gaza", pointing to a website run by the Australian Friends of Palestine Association. As in England, his plan was approved by the local body - here, the Adelaide Crows - but rejected by the governing body, the AFL. "As a sporting organisation, the AFL does not accept advertisements around our games from any political arena, be that state politics, federal politics or international politics," a spokesman said. The ban prompted a wave of protest. World Vision's Tim Costello said the proposed ads were humanitarian, not political.

Here is the grey area. Cricket journalist Rob Steen, exploring the Moeen Ali case on cricinfo.com, asked: "What is humanitarian and what is political? The trouble is that one person's humanitarian matter is another's political wrangle." This is manifestly true of the Middle East. Steen asks if the support for Moeen would have been as great if his wristbands had read: "Save Gaza from Hamas." Or: "Free Israeli citizens from random rockets." Would he have attracted as much admiration if he was Jewish? The same question could be asked of the phantom Adelaide Oval ads.

When the AFL meets the Middle East, hysteria is bound to be the order of the day. One tweet this week addressing the Adelaide Oval matter read: "It's clearly showing that the AFL is condoning the violence in Gaza." This is plainly nonsensical. The AFL has said nothing about Russian rebels in the Ukraine, nor would it sanction anyone who tried to use football as a vehicle to make a statement about them. Does that mean it is anti-Ukrainian? Hardly. But on the night after the MH17 disaster, when many shocked delegates to an international AIDS conference in Melbourne were at the football on AFL-donated tickets, it neglected to make any sort of gesture. Was this a terrible oversight? Conference organisers thought so.

The AFL's primary role is to run a sporting competition, and only incidentally to deal in politics. The fact is that it does take on political causes: affirmative action for indigenous Australians, recognition for women, acceptance of gays, multiculturalism, to name some. It also leant some weight to the cause of eliminating violence among young men, also responsible gambling (while accepting on a vast scale advertising and sponsorship from corporate bookmakers; yes, it can be as venal and duplicitous as any other politician). The AFL is a sports body, but it is also an institution in Australian society. It must expect to end up tangled up in politics from time to time, but it might not have expected to have to deal with Middle Eastern politics, the most intractable kind.

Politics is the art of the possible. It is also about words. Sometime, simplistic slogans work: "Stop the boats" did, and so did "Axe the Tax". Sometimes, they are inadequate. In their original form, the Adelaide Oval ads, however well-meant, would have had the potential to antagonise and inflame. Over the course of last Friday, other variations of wording were negotiated, until a final version was reached that read: "Help the Children in Gaza - donate now." Its addendum was World Vision's website. But this also was rejected. As so often in a political brouhaha, by then there was no such thing as innocence.